Picture Perfect
by jayrosew
Summary: Emma King knows something is going on with her hyperactive neighbor and she is determined to figure it out.
1. APERTURE

**APERTURE :**

 **A circle-shaped opening in a lens through which light passes to strike the image sensor or the film.**

Stiles Stilinski was about as subtle as a tap dancing elephant, I couldn't help but watch in awe as his tall body twisted awkwardly to clamber out his bedroom window and scramble down the tree that conveniently sat below it. Please don't misinterpret my observations as anything other than a neighbour finding another's pour attempts of escape both pitiful and hilarious. I was not stalking nor would I ever stalk Stiles Stilinski there was no need to, as previously mentioned he wasn't really that discrete. To be honest I'm pretty sure people in the next state over would have been able to tell he was up to something but then again when wasn't he.

I couldn't pull my eyes away from him has he stumbled across the front lawn and into his mismatching jeep before speeding off in the same direction his father had left in only moments before. I would have stayed in my daze staring blanking at the empty road for the remainder of the night had the familiar tinker of bells not forced my attention to shift to my phone. Reluctantly I slid from my perch on the window ledge and maneuverer my way through the chaos that was my bedroom until I reached my bag that had been tossed onto my bed earlier.

Opening the message I was greeted with a single word 'Outside' the corner of my lips lifts into a smile at the simplicity of the text. Shoving my phone and keys into the pockets of my jeans, the pockets being the only parts of them left in good condition, I began to head out the room and down to the front door. Unlike Stilinski I wasn't trying to sneak out nor did I care if my parents wondered where I was off to at such a late hour. They didn't seem to care either, it had been years since either of my parents and asked where I was going, I think they gave up after a while. Closing the front door I strolled across the lawn and slide into the black vehicle that was parked opposite my house.

"Emma, you came, I mean I'm glad you're here" The driver gushed instantly "Not that I thought you wouldn't I mean, well yeah" he fumbled and stuttered as he twisted the keys in the ignition setting off. I merely smiled up at him from my seat before turning to stare at the passing street lights. Michael Johnston was not the kind of boy that got asked on drives to the middle of nowhere by girls he had only spoken to once or twice, hell he didn't even do this with girls he did talk to on a regular basis. Neither of us spoke has he drove towards the Beacon Hill reservation, the only noise that filled the car was the soft ballads on the mix tape Michael had obviously made before picking me up. Though from the way his eyes kept shifting in my direction I guessed he was tempted to break the silence.

The car came to the stop just before the chain that closed the roads into the reservation at night. The pitiful 'no entry' side daring us to go and explore the dark woods but that wasn't what we were here for, though from the abandoned jeep next to us I suspect that was where Stilinski had scurried off to. Turning to face Michael with a small grin I realised just how nervous the boy was. His cheeks flushed red, his eyes refused to focus on one thing instead his gaze darted from side to side inspecting each and every detail of his car. I placed a hand on his knee and his head shot round, eyes wide and mouth slightly open as his eyes lingering a little too long on my chest.

Before he had a chance to stutter out an apology I leant forward pushing my lips forcefully against his. As the kiss began to progress I found myself straddling his legs awkwardly trying to avoid the steering wheel. Somewhere along the way we had lost our tops and we probably would have gotten further had we not been interrupted by a knock on the passenger side window. I slide from his lap and began to wind down the window leaving Michael to fumble about in the dark for his shirt.

"Emma?" To my displeasure I was greeted with a disappointed looking sheriff his son staring openly at me, his eyes lingering on my bare skin. I smiled sheepishly at him, this was not how I had seen my evening ending "you kids shouldn't be here".

"oh sorry sir, we were just leaving. We weren't doing, you know we weren't" thankfully the sheriff silenced his rambling with a raise of his brow and a suggestion that we should head home.

"and son…"

"Yes sir?"

"You take her straight home. No stopping along the way understood?"

As you can guess the drive home was silent, even when we stopped outside my house Michael didn't speak he merely nodded his head and tried to hide his blush. Personally I think he is taking it all a bit too seriously but then again who was I to judge maybe being court making out by the sheriff was a traumatic event to most teenagers. As I entered my house and started up the stairs to my room I couldn't help but laugh as I fell onto my bed. How could anyone not find the situation funny? I had spent so many years trying to provoke some sort of reaction out of my uninterested parents that being scolded by the dutiful sheriff seemed like some ironic way of the world reminding me just how distant our family had become.

Guess I should probably supply you with more knowledge then the fact I have a twitchy neighbour and that I'm not close to my parents, my name is Emma King. I'm a Virgo, I like moon lit walks and I stopped talking when I was eight. It was my first act of rebellion and it was most defiantly not my last. I don't even fully remember why I decided to turn myself into a mute, mum says that I had sprouted some nonsenses about wolves and monsters before declaring that if they wouldn't listen I wouldn't give them anything to listen too. Though I'm pretty sure I just wanted to see how badly I could screw up their perfect little nuclear family.

By the end of middle school I had found my voice again and moved onto the next step of rebellion thus where my late night excursion fits into it all. The problem is after withholding my voice for so long I just can't seem to bring myself to talk. It's as if even with all the mayhem and trouble I get into there was still nothing worth talking about.

From the chatter that was circulating the school the next morning it seemed the possibly of an interesting convocation topic was highly unlikely. After a short diversion to drop my talkative kid brother at school I parked my mother's hideous little eco-friendly hatch back and strolled into school. First day of term and it was as if we had never left: Lacrosse sticks where hooked on to multiple rucksacks; hormonal teenage boys stared longingly at girls in short skirts; and nobody seemed the faintest bit interested in the fact that half a body had been found in the woods the previous evening.

It seemed appropriate that since nothing had change that I did my very best to uphold my reputation of being the last student into class and the first out. Everyone was already seated as I shuffled into English completely regretting my decision to leave the house in the morning. I head towards one of the few open seats at the back of the class room ignoring the disapproving look from teacher or the fact that the bell had sounded minutes before I had even entered the class room. It seemed he had also chosen to ignore me as he forced his dying marker pen to finish the words he was writing on the board. His monotone voice hanging dully in the air "as you all know there was indeed a body found in the woods last night, and no doubt your egger little minds have produced various macabre scenarios but I am here to tell you the police have a suspect which means you can give todays lesson your full attention."

Why he had even brought the subject up was a mystery in its self the only people who had looked interested in the topic where Stiliniski , who much to my amusement had tried his hardest to avoid any form of eye contact when I had slid into the empty desk behind him, and is beloved life partner.

Talking of Scott McCall the boy seemed to have picked up some of Stilinski's odd little ticks as his head darted from side to side as if trying to fine the source to a non-existent sound. After deciding that I had already given his behaviour to much attention I turned to look out the window for the rest of the lesson. Only diverting my attention from the car park to glance at the door when a new student was introduced. Allison Argent, a beautiful brunette who would most defiantly not experience any problems when trying to making friends.

As the lesson drew to a close after what had seemed like hours I darted toward the door and toward my locker. Once there it seemed I had been correct in my assumption that the new girl would fit right in. Before the poor girl had not even had the chance to swap her books before she was blindsided by the tiny red headed hurricane know as Lydia Martin. It would seem that Lydia had grown bored with the current student population that she jumped at the chance to get her claws into a new toy. It didn't take long for the rest of the sharks to begin circling the new girl as I pulled my camera from my locker and headed towards the news room.

Pushing the door open I barely had time to react as a body flung itself in my direction. Audrey Carter, News paper editor and all round busy body. She gripped my shoulders and pushed herself on to her tip toes to stare me in the eyes. "Did you hurt yourself in the holidays?" I shook my head "did a relative die? A pet even?" again I shook my head "so you were just ignoring my emails then."

A smile slides onto my lips as a shrugged her hands of my shoulders "I guess" as I slip past her. I'm fairly sure I heard her tut at my reply.

"You know it's a good thing I like you." She followed me into the room and pulled a folder from her desk and turned to pass it to me "I thought you would want to help Matt with the Lacrosse coverage he actually suggested it, something about him being first line this year and not having time to take photographs." She rolled her eyes expressing her clear distaste for the sport. Audrey was not one to keep her opinions to herself and her dislike for lacrosse had ostracized her during her first few years of high school. Forcing her to become the honour roll senior who's only friends were the underclass men she managed, not that she minded.

I raised a hand and waved to the older girl who had darted off to save some of the freshmen who seemed to be struggling with the editing equipment. "yes yes, bye Em" came her rushed goodbye as she began to rectify the students mistakes.

Reaching the sports field I spotted Matt instantly. He was squatting by the bench at the side of the pitch, fully donned in is lacrosse kit; his only distinguishing feature was the large camera in his hands. Pulling my silver cigarette tin from my pocket I placed one of the delicate white sticks between my lips before throwing my bag at Matt's feet. He didn't move from his place as I perched on the bench next to him lighting my cigarette and curling my hand around it to shield the red glow from wondering eyes and nosy staff. With my free hand I began to fiddle with my own camera preparing it for when Matt began to train.

"Nice to know you didn't die over the summer, I'm assuming you've already seen Audrey" Matt quipped his eyes never leaving his camera.

"I'm assuming you know you're not going to make first string" I replied purposely blowing smoke down at him. He turned and grinned at me before moving to the spot next to me on the bench and returning his camera to its case. If Audrey was one of my few friends Matt Daehler was my best friend. "so who you trying to impress?" I knew the boy well and he never showed interest in something unless he was trying to impress a girl.

He smiled nodding his head in the direction of the Brunette who had been dragged along with Lydia. "Her names Allison, bet she photographs well." It was my turn to smile at that. Our friendship had been formed years ago in the guidance counsellor's waiting room when we had discovered a shared interest in photography. As I watched the girl I could see his point she had every feature one would want in a model but I studied her I noticed her eyes glued to another player on the field.

"Good luck with that, seems she already as a soft spot for McCall." I point at the boy who was being pushed into goal by the neurotic coach. The smile fell from his face as he glanced between the two his fist closed tightly around his lacrosse stick as he stood and walked onto the pitch clearly annoyed at my observation. Not that it bothered me. While our friendship was probably one of the closest relationships I had ever had with anyone it was most defiantly not healthy. We spent our time winding each other up and discussing how easy it would to get away with murder. In middle school our guidance counsellor had even made a comment about keeping the guns under lock and key.

Practise was interesting to say the least; I had assumed it would be another boring session of ego driven idiots. However the goal keeper, McCall, seemed to be playing at a completely different level to the other players. His reflexes where sharp and after failing to stop the first shot he hadn't missed a single one much to Jackson's dislike. I had court Matt's eyes at one point and I can only assume my expression mirrored his.

As practice continued I could see Matt's temper getting the better of him. His gloved fist curling tightly around his lacrosse stick as McCall twisted around him and proceeded to score an impressive goal. I cocked an eyebrow at Matt as he turned to me a nasty scowl edged into his face. Oh how he hated losing. I made a point to pull up a few pictures I had taken of the crowd, namely Allison, during some of Scott's gravity defying footwork as Matt stomped of the pick towards me. "You were right, she takes a good candid." I push my camera into his face as he removes his helmet with a grunt. "too bad she wasn't making those faces for you" I continue coyly knowing the pictures had already pushed him closer to boiling point.

"Go to hell Em." Was his only reply as he began slamming his pads into the ground clearly not wanting them on any longer than necessary. Satisfied with my work, I smiled back at him sweetly before changing the convocation to the big party on Friday. "I'm not going by myself I can barely stand these idiots during practice" I chuckled at his snide remark. As we start to walk back towards the carpark I notice Michael hovering sheepishly by my car.

"I guess I can pencil it into my busy diary." As we get closer to my car I realise Matt had every intention of getting a lift home. Unable to resist pushing him over the edge I grinned at him before nodding towards Michael. "Looks like you're finding your own way home" before he could reply I speed towards the awkward boy by my car and told him to get in without as much as a hello. Surprisingly he complied without asking any questions. Though as he entered the car he begin to apologise profusely for the, in his eyes, extremely embarrassing events of last night. Though I wasn't listening to him as I pulled the car out of the car park. Instead my eyes were glued on my best friend who was currently standing alone. One hand curled tightly around his gym bag in annoyance the other held high as he presented his middle finger to me.

Friday was all anyone could talk about. Teachers made sly comments about being responsible, girls discussed clothes and boys discussed girls. It all became a bit repetitive as the same convocations circled the school for the next 4 days. It wasn't until Friday evening that things began to change. As usually Matt had offered himself a lift and stated that I would need to pick him up in an hour. Just enough time he commented to make myself presentable. He was currently winning in our little tug of war game as he had accidently, yeah right, given Michael the impression that he was my date for the evening. When in actual fact I was only making an appearance at this thing to keep his pitiful self company. Which had resulted in Michael actively avoiding me. Not that I was overly fussed, I was more annoyed at Michaels behaviour than Matts anyway.

I had spent little time getting ready just a lick of makeup and a change of clothes before I took up my perch on the windowsill. With just under an hour to waste I had decided to do a bit of Stilinski watching to pass the time. He was hunched over his laptop engrossed in whatever he was researching. He stayed like that until McCall came barging into his room clearly high from the idea of his date with Allison, everyone's favourite new toy. My phone rang loudly pulling my attention from the pair's animated debate. "Why aren't you here yet?" Matt's voice questioned bluntly down the phone, the irritated tone suggesting he had opened the picture I sent him of Allison and Scott taking in the hall after lunch today. I smiled not even bothering to reply to him as I hung up and turned towards the door. A bang from outside forced me to glance out the window to find Scott Pinning Stiles against the wall. I edged closer to the window trying to make out what they were saying to each other but the glass was too thick. Before I could open my window, Scott turned pushing a chair out of his way with more force then necessary. I watched as he stormed down the drive and into the waiting car clearly still angry at whatever Stiles had said. My eyes returned to Stiles, he was staring down at the back of the chair in a dazed like manner. Three thin cuts had been cut into the back of the chair.

As I drove to Matt's I made a mental list of things to do at the party and at the very top, after finding the spiked punch, was to question Stiles on his resent domestic with his beloved Scott. However they hyperactive fool was harder to track down then I had previously assumed. It wasn't until Scott can stumbling past me, spilling my drink down the back of a couple dancing suggestively, that I spotted him. He was holding Scott by the shoulders trying to get his attention but his friend merely shoved him out the way. Stiles looked up and froze as he noticed I was watching. We continued to stare silently at each other, my list of questions growing, as Scott rushed off leaving a trail of annoyed drunk teenagers in his wake. Something was defiantly going on with those two.

* * *

I hope you liked the first chapter. Always up for positive, negative, constructive feedback.

Cheers


	2. ABERRATION

**ABERRATION -**

 **Something that prevents light from being brought into sharp focus, disenabling the formation of a clear image.**

"I'll cover Lacrosse this season, don't send any greenies" My comment was met by a bark like laugh as Audrey raised her head from her laptop.

"Oh, you're being serious." She looked genuinely shocked by my offer "Well by all means go ahead it's not like Matt is doing anything other than messing around with his stick and balls." I had known Audrey would find my request peculiar but her utter disbelief that I would volunteer to do work was slightly insulting. I couldn't help but wonder why she even let me claim credits for the work I rarely did.

"Erm…" A timid stutter pulled our attention away from each other to a petite freshman who was entangled in dark rolls of camera film. Audrey rolled her eyes as if to say 'look at what I have to deal with' and in that moment I remembered why she put up with me. As much as I wanted watch the scene unfold I couldn't suppress my desire to solve the troublesome puzzle the Dynamic Duo had presented. I was a sucker for puzzles.

As I approached the, huddle, gaggle… herd? What do you call a group of hormonally fuelled adolescences locked in a continuous fight to be the alpha male, maybe a pack? As I approached the pack my eyes lingered on McCall. He was facing me but from his vacant expression and coach's excessive shouting I assumed he wasn't actually looking at me. "McCall, what are you waiting for?"

I had pulled my camera from it case for nothing. There was no gravity defying acrobatics instead much to my surprise and it seemed everyone else's Scott stumbled backwards the moment he came into contact with Jackson. It was as if the weirdness that had happened in the previous practice was forgotten and the world had returned to normal. I could see Jackson whisper something to him but failed to hear thanks to Coach's neurotic shouts "My grandmother can move faster than that, and she's dead! You think you can move faster than the body of my dead grandmother?" Scott's lips barely moved as he replied "I can't hear you."

"Yes, coach!"

"Then do it again! McCall is gonna do it again!" As Scott returned to the line it was clear that something had changed. Perhaps it wasn't just luck that had helped him last time. I held the shutter down refusing to miss even a second as Scott propelled himself forward. A whistle, a flash, the sound of bodies colliding mid-air. I frowned as I pulled the camera away from my face both boys were on the floor. Jackson clutching his shoulder and clearly in a lot of pain while Scott clawed at this helmet Stiles rushing to his aid.

I continue to snap away as the pair rush by oblivious to my presence. "I can't control it, it's happening!" His voice almost growled as Stiles ushered him toward the changing rooms.

His escort's panicked tones replied with a hurried "What? Right here? Now? Come on!" before vanishing into the building.

Stiles and McCall managed to keep a low profile after practice and despite actively looking for the pair I had little luck in finding them. It wasn't until Matt arrived at my locker the next day that I heard anything about them. "Rumour is McCalls not playing this weekend," his eyes filled with glee as he relayed the information, "which means I'm starting, maybe Allison will notice me this time" I grin back at Matt my eyes lingering a couple sitting on the stairs just behind him

"oh really because I'm pretty sure your beloved Alison has just told him she will be watching HIM play tomorrow, though she could have told him she is working on a sleigh it's hard to say." I shrug nonchalantly at him as I pull my camera from my locker and place a text book in its place knowing he would have stormed off before I closed the door. Shaking my head at his pettiness I continue down the hall after him though it wasn't long before I was stopped.

"Emma," A fatherly voice, the kind of voice that would calm you down after a nightmare by telling you everything would be okay, called out to me.

I turn and look up at the man before me, "Sheriff." He smiles back at me as if forgetting the last time I saw him I was half naked in the passage sit of another student's car.

"I assume you've heard about the body that was found the other night," I nodded slowly unsure why he decided to discuss it with me. "We haven't found the killer. So to keep everyone safe we are enforcing a curfew. Promise me you'll keep to it, no late night drives," perhaps he hadn't forgotten. I nodded again even added a quick salute before turning walking in the direction Matt had headed.

"Unbelievable ! My dad is looking after a stupid animal whereas the damn real killer" The tell tale voice of the younger Stilinski drifted round the corner though the convocation soon stopped as I came into view, "killer ….. killer tune playing…. Yeah?..." when I had passed the pair he continued rambling to his buddy "The killer can hanging out, doing whatever he wants." I had to know what was going on.

I didn't catch up with Matt, though I don't know if that was a blessing or a curse he can be foul when pushed too far and while I would never admit it to him I may have crossed a line earlier. As I waited for Josh, the talkative kid brother I mentioned before, to find his way to the car and start gushing about what a super day he had had I toy with the idea of making it up to Matt. I even thought about making him a sign and cheering for him at the game but that idea didn't last long. I settled on sending him a quick 'I'm a jerk' text instead.

After a short journey and a very long convocation with a middle school student I was finally able to retreat to my room. "I'm developing photos" I called out to know one in particular before slamming the door and closing the blinds. I pulled my equipment form its box and began to unravel the film that had been coiled up inside my camera. Inspecting the delicate film carefully I searched for any half decent shots that might be hidden amongst the crap. As I near the end one caught my eye. Two figures crouched, both in lacrosse uniforms a clear 24 printed on the back of one though it was the other figure that had made me pause. Beneath his helmet were two white marks where his eyes should have been and for lack of a better word fangs hung over his lower lip mid speech. My lips curled upward as my eyes moved from the negative film in my hands to a book I had stolen from the local library as a child. Kicking the items that I had piled on top of it away I studied the worn cover thinking back to how I had once tranced the slivery font with my fingers every night before falling asleep. " _Lycanthropy_ " I chuckled to myself not quite ready to believe it.

Rumours as to why Scott wasn't playing at the weekend began to circle around the school each new story as ludicrous as the first. Though whatever the reason was it clearly wasn't good enough to actually stop him from playing much to Matt's annoyance, "bloody McCall." He had been gloating all week about starting and had grinned triumphantly days earlier when he informed me that Lydia Martin had introduced him to Allison. "I can't believe this," throwing his stick to the ground he sank into the bench in defeat.

"yeah I know it sucks. I mean I went through the effort of bringing the brat here to watch you play and everything," I batted back quickly my eyes flickering back to Josh who I had left on the busy bleachers behind me. He gave me a quick wave before turning his eyes to the two teams on the pitch. I pulled my camera and began to prepare for the game, doing my best to ignore Matt's murderous glares.

Cutting through the air came the referees shouts "Down," and in unison the testosterone filled teens lowered their bodies, "SET!" As the teams edged forward my eyes focused on Scott who seemed to be repeating some sort of mantra over and over to himself.

The whistle was blown. bodies raced from each end of the pitch, weaving in and out of each other. goals were being won yet McCall had not even touched the ball. From the quick exchanges between Jackson and Scott I could only assume he was holding a grudge about the whole shoulder incident still. As the game continued on Scott seemed to be distracted by something in the crowd. Turning to follow his eye line I couldn'thelp but snort loudly as Lydia forcefully shoved a banner , which read "we LUV u Jackson", into the hands of a reluctant Allison.

Twisting my lesne slowly I zoomed in on the small group that had formed on one side of the pitch. Jackson was pointing to himself and the others didn't seem convinced by whatever he was saying. I could see Danny mouth the word McCall and pulled back to see if said teen had heard. It seemed he had but how was another question to add to the list as he was on the far side of the pitch. His hands curled around his lacrosse stick and his eyes seemed to flash a vibrant amber. However, before I could pull my camera back to my face to have a closer look he was already back at the line up. His entire demeanor had changed.

The whistle went and off Scott shot. He had propelled himself into the air to gain possession of the ball and once he had it there was no chance of the other team regaining it. The crowd went wild has he sent the the ball speeding into the oppositions goal. "McCall! Pass to McCall!" Came the Coach's energetic cries from the sidelines. I could help but take a few snaps of Jackson's sour face as I walked around the bench to crouch beside Matt again.

As I lowered myself down I watched in utter disbelief as a member of the other team stopped in front of Scott and passed the ball to him. Glancing up at Matt I question aloud, "that isn't normal. Right?"

"I don't even know what that is," Matt answered honestly his eyes glued to Scott. I pulled my camera up once more and did my best to track his impressive movements. The crowd erupted into cheers as he scored the equalizing goal. Though despite this great feat he seemed lost, dazed even. I twist my lense slowly zooming in closer. Waiting for the images to focus. If it hadn't been for Matt's fast reflexes my camera would of fallen into the mud as I shot upwards with a gasp. Clearly my actions had been so unexpected that many of the bodies on the bench with Matt turned to give me the same perplexed look. "What the hell Em!" I didn't answer instead I just stared into at the nervous face of Stiles Stilinski before pulling my prized belonging from Matts hands.

I began to walk along the sideline. My eyes locked onto Scotts hunched figure. As I passed the end of the team's bench I could hear Stile's muttering to himself, "no Scott, no,no." The clock was ticking and despite the roars of the crowd and yells of the coach Scott was just standing there looking around wildly for something or someone. Then as is he has found it he swung into action and won the match. As the home crowd began to celebrate and rush the pitch I moved closer to Scott watching and analysing every movement. He rushed to grip his hand yanking the padded glove from it to reveal five sharp, almost claw like, nails before dashing off towards the school.

I turn the glove over in my hands inspecting the tears in the fabric. Each tear matching perfectly to the claws I had seen McCall sporting only moments earlier. A smile crept onto my face as pieced the puzzle together. "Em!" The chipper voice broke my concentration as I turned to face Josh. "What's that?" he questioned curiously as his eyes lingered on the glove.

"oh nothing, you ready?" As we head of the pitch I passed an intense looking Jackson. With a flick of my wrist I threw the glove toward him knowing he would catch it with ease, "It's McCall's."


End file.
